While My Heart Gently Weeps
by Pattie Anne Boyd
Summary: George Harrison: A quiet man. A guitarist. A rockstar. A Beatle. The only sane Beatle. Or as he thought. That changed as soon as something else came into his life... A girl. Was it possible for a simple girl like her to make him lose his sanity? George/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello, everyone... And welcome to my second Non-ATU fanfic! This one is indeed a George story. I would like to say that this story pretty much doesn't follow the history. Well, it does, but I kind of pushed aside time for this story. So don't get too upset when you find that some of these events aren't in the right place, or that some events didn't happen...WIBBLY WOBBLY TIMEY WIMEY. Stuff. It doesn't matter. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...implied intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them.**

**Prologue**

There are those moments in life. Those moments where something happens and you just begin to wonder if the world is just a figment of someone else's imagination. You wonder if the world is really a lie. You wonder how these things could possibly happen. Especially to you.

This was just another one of those moments. It seemed to me that I was a magnet to those moments. I had to live through them all throughout my life. They became ordinary; they no longer were moments that stuck out in my life, like a sore thumb. There were just so many. And I continuingly told myself that this one was just another moment.

But it wasn't. This moment would always stick out in my life. And I would never be able to bring myself back to reality. I would never be able to accept the world again. Not after this.

I knew what was to come. And so did everyone else.

Sitting in the waiting room all day only made the whole accepting part of this harder. I glanced around at the people in the room. Out of all people, the one person I least expected to show up was Pattie. She married that Clapton fellow only a month ago, and it seemed as if she had replaced us with his people.

Shaking my head, I looked over at John and Paul. They were silent and rarely showed expression. They were scared, nervous, and sad. They were depressed.

I gave my attention to Ringo, who's eyes were bloodshot, and his nose red. His cheeks were filled with sticky, dried-up tears. He sniffled quite a bit, and avoided eye contact.

I glanced at the clock. 19:27. I first arrived around 11:00 earlier this morning. I made it over before anyone else. I didn't even prepare to leave. I left as soon as I got the message.

A message that lacked words. It was a simple message. But when I recieved it, I was told a whole story. Not from the messenger, but from the wordless message.

A man appeared at my door earlier on. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and put something in it secretly. He closed my hand right away, making sure I didn't see the object. He kissed my hand and then left me alone on my porch. I looked down into my hand to find a silver necklace chain. On it was a box designed with a Celtic knot, causing the box to have some wholes instead of the surface being solid and flat. It was a necklace; and a beautiful one at that.

But the necklace had much more meaning to it. I had one similar to it. However, mine was golden, and instead of a Celtic knot _box_, it was a Celtic knot _locket_. They had the same meaning, though. The same, powerful meaning.

The two necklaces were gifts between George and I. He gave me the locket, and I gave him the small box. I told him to keep the necklace on to store the memories of us together. Almost as if you were putting a bunch of old memorable things in a box to store in the attic. He told me to store all of my love in the heart of the locket, as if it were my own heart. But it was only meant for the love I had for him.

We decided that if we ever were to split apart, or be separated in any way, that we _had_ to give the necklaces back to each other. Since George and I were still happily in love when I received the necklace from the man, I knew right away what was happening. His illness.

And so, as I looked at his necklace and stood on my front porch, the message swarmed into my head and I found myself breaking down in tears. I grabbed my coat right away and left in my car. I sobbed the whole way there. I probably shouldn't have driven there, considering how much I was shaking.

But here I am now, sitting in the waiting room with everyone else. I must've ran out of tears because I stopped crying a few hours ago.

A doctor finally came in. He flipped a paper over the clipboard to look at something beneath it. "Uhm, Ms. Harrison?"

I wasn't married to George. He hadn't even proposed yet. However, anywhere we went, I was always Ms. Harrison. I suppose it was a way to say that I was his official girlfriend.

I glanced up slowly. I waved politely to him. "Yes, I'm her."

"I need to have a word with you," He said, his voice low and somewhat sad.

I nodded and silently stood. I began to walk away with the doctor, glancing back at everyone else in the waiting room. All their eyes were wide as they became worried.

The doctor led me through a door into the hallway and walked beside me quickly. "It's about George," He said.

"I've kind of got that one figured," I said with a sad shrug.

He nodded to me and then pushed open the door to a room. George's room. And suddenly I found that the tears that had abandoned me a few hours ago were beginning to return as I cried when the Doctor gave me the news.


	2. Camera Shopping

**A/N: Hey, loveliest of the lovelies! Sorry I haven't been around or updating this... This chapter is a bit short. But hey, what can I say? It has everything in it that I wanted to put in it. Plus like every first chapter of mine has been pretty short. Well, read and review! I hope you enjoy!:)**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...implied intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them.**

**Camera Shopping**

I met George only a few summers ago. It was just at the start of his career, so he had those trusty fangirls hanging all over him as if they were glued. And George, poor George, wasn't used to the attention yet. I mean, he never would actually get used to the attention, due to being rather shy, but at that time he felt completely uncomfortable. At the shows, girls were screaming out his name, wearing buttons with his face pictured on them, and fainting over him. And hell, he wasn't even used to the pretty girl in school talking to him; never mind that.

I guess I shocked him a little bit when he discovered that I had no clue of his existence. Though he wasn't used to the fans, he was used to being noticed and getting attention. He and the other three Beatles were so mainstream that practically _everyone _had seen their faces and heard their names or music. Everyone had at least a little knowledge of them.

Which also could've been why he was so shocked when he met me. I had no knowledge of the Beatles whatsoever. I lived in London and everything; even some of my friends were fans of them. But somehow, just somehow, I was completely oblivious to their fame. To their music. To their existence.

The camera store where we had met was playing Love Me Do as well. I must've shoved it out of my head, because I really didn't hear music until the end of the song. Instead of doing that, I was browsing through the camera selections. The bells of the door jingled and someone walked in, panting. I shrugged it off, and went back to my shopping. A huge crowd of screaming girls ran down the sidewalk outside the window that was in front of me. I arched an eyebrow. "Okay, that was weir-"

"Oh, thank god it worked," said the panting man. I turned around to see the man leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed.

"And I suppose you had something to do with that?" I said, referring to the girls.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "Yep. Have you seen them while we're on the telly? They go wild-"

"You've been on the telly?" I asked and I dropped my jaw. "I've always wanted to be on the television. You, sir, are lucky." I smiled.

He laughed. "Of course I've been on the telly," the man looked at me weirdly, "How do you think them girls know what I look like?"

"Well, why do they want to know?" I asked.

He stared at me for a minute. "Because I'm George Harrison."

I wasn't sure if I was missing something or if he was just being conceited. "And what's so special about George Harrison?"

George stared at me again, confused. "I'm part of the Beatles..."

"Like the bugs? Is it some type of group or organization or something?" I raised an eyebrow. "Beetles..."

"Love, we're a band!" George said to me as if I were dumb or slow minded. "Hear the song playing on the clerk's radio? That's our song, 'Love Me Do'."

"Oh, well I'll be damned," I said, picking up another camera to look at. "So you're the guy who wrote the song I've been hearing all the time-"

"Not exactly," he interrupted. "I'm lead guitar. This is Paul and John singing."

"Oh, sorry," I said. I made my way to the cashier with my camera of choice. George followed behind slowly. "So where are you off to next?" I asked him casually as I counted out my money.

"Back to the hotel," He sighed, "I have a concert tonight. Hopefully I can make it back alive."

I chuckled. "Sounds stressful being famous."

"Sometimes." George shrugged. "And how about you? Where are you off to?"

"Well, I have a day off from work today, and I was planning on driving aimlessly until I find a good spot to take some photographs," I said, paying the cashier as I took my purchased camera.

"Sounds fun." He said, but it seemed more like a question.

"What else is there to do when you're the only person with a day off from work?" I asked and laughed. We slowly began to walk toward the front door of the shop.

"Well, you can hang with us and stay for the concert and stuff." George said. "I mean, if you want to."

I raised an eyebrow. "I don't know..." I said. "I didn't even know you guys existed until like... 5 minutes ago."

"Well that's why I'm inviting you," George said, "Because you wouldn't be hanging with us because you're a Beatlemaniac. You'd be hanging with us because you're more of a friend."

"Alright then, if you insist," I shrugged.

George grinned at me. "Great!" He said and then held the door open for me.

"Thanks," I said and walked out of the store. George was saying some sort of thanks to the cashier.

"Wait, what?" I asked myself and shook my head. "What just happened?" I turned back to see George hurrying down the steps.

"You look confused," He said.

"I am," I said. "Because apparently you're famous, you're in some band I haven't even heard of, you've invited me to hang out with you, and you haven't even asked my name yet."

George stared at me. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know." He glanced around and then back at me. He smiled lightly. "I guess I was so excited about you...that I... Well, love, what is yer name?"

"Beverly Thomas," I smirked, "Nice to meet ya, George." I held out a hand to him.

"Nice to meet you too, Beverly," George smiled, shaking my hand. Our eyes locked on each other. Our smiles continued to greet each other. Our hands continued to shake. And for a moment, it had seemed like the world had stopped. It seemed like the world had stopped just for US.

After a few moments passed, George realized that we had been staring into each other's eyes. He pulled his hand from mine. "Sorry..." He said, quietly.

I smiled. "It's alright."

"So, are you-" George began to say, but was immediately cut off by a girl screaming his name from down the street.

"Come on!" I said, taking his hand. I led him to my old Chevy and got in the driver's seat. George climbed into the passenger's seat and looked at me.

"I hope you don't mind that we're taking my car," I said to him. The girl grabbed us the attention of more fans, and the crowd of running and screaming girls was quickly approaching us.

"It's alright, love, but I think it'd be best if I drive, if ya don't mind." George said. I nodded and we climbed around the car quickly to switch seats. He turned on the ignition and drove away from the fans with speed.


	3. Beatlemania

**A/N: Yo. It's me again. I'm updating. Sorry for the long wait-Writers block and no time. Oh and I've been distracted by my Beatle roleplay...sorry lovelies. I'll update the other ones as soon as I can find time... because I have started school finally, and sadly, drama club and my numerous musical activities have been taking up most of my time lately. Today, I stayed home sick, so I found it to be a wonderful time to write. Enjoy!**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...implied intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them.**

**Beverly's POV**

**Beatlemania**

George drove, biting his lip and checking what his speed was constantly. Every once in a while he would slow down a bit more, cautious of our safety. As soon as we lost the girls and stopped gaining people's attention by speeding past them, he relaxed completely, almost slumping too much in his seat. He let out a sigh, keeping his eyes locked on the road.

It felt like we had been silent for hours. It hadn't even been that long; the stress of fangirls and my confusion as to what was happening made the silence of our original concentration seem prolonged, rather than the few minutes it actually lasted. I couldn't bear the silence any longer. "So...The Beetles..."

"I still can't believe you haven't heard of us," George said, glancing at me with a smile.

"Why bugs?" I asked him, still focusing on my train of thought.

George laughed loudly. "It's spelled B-e-a-t-l-e-s! Not like the bug," He continued to chuckle, "If that's what you were thinkin'."

"It still sounds like it," I protested.

"Well it's not like we're these big beetle fanatics," He argued, although his tone seemed comedic. "It's our own little word, I suppose."

I shrugged. "Alright," I giggled. "So you guys are pretty popular, I assume?"

"As of right now, yes we are. Ever heard of Beatlemania?" He asked me.

"Nope," I answered simply.

"Have ya been livin' under a rock or somethin' all yer life?" He asked me, still shocked.

"No," I said, "I just don't spend much time around people anymore. I prefer being lonely. It makes things a bit peaceful and quiet."

"Well, don't ya watch the telly?" He arched an eyebrow. "I thought ya said you've always wanted to be on the telly."

"Oh," I pursed my lips. I forgot I said that. It was such a random statement for him to remember. I simply shrugged and replied, "Well I used to watch the telly. I guess that growing up, for me, it was always a dream. I've kinda let go of that dream, though. I've been so focused on my art and pictures lately, that I forgot that I even owned a television."

George nodded. "I see. So... How old are ya?"

"18," I looked at him nervously. "And how about you?"

"19," He smiled lightly. "So yer already livin' on yer own? Or do ya live with yer parents?"

"I live on my own," I nodded. "I moved to London to start a life with a job and everything, rather than being trapped at home with my family."

"I take it ya weren't happy there, hmm?"

"Nope," I shook my head, but tried to keep my tone clean. I didn't want to show George how bothered I was by the thought of my family. I liked talking to him, and didn't want to risk making things seem awkward.

"So where are ya from originally?" He glanced at me, to show that he was actually interested, and not just trying to talk about anything.

"Lancaster," I told him. "And you?"

"Liverpool," He said with a smirk.

"Never been," I said. "Is it nice in Liverpool?"

George made a face. "Eh... It's alright, I guess. I like London better."

"Yeah, London is a lot better than Lancaster as well. That's why I moved here." I grinned.

"I'm glad you moved here," The boy grinned, slowing down as we approached his hotel. His hotel, I concluded. It was London's finest hotel. I noticed there were girls at the door, being held back by security. "Shoot!" He pulled the car to the side of the street, turning off the engine.

"They've found you guys," I laughed. I rolled down the window of my Chevy, listening to the girls screaming names. "They're insane!"

"Beatlemania as a whole," George sighed. "I can never escape it."

"I have an idea." I got out of the car quickly, running over to his door and opening it. "Crawl over to the passenger's seat and get down." He did as I said and I got in the driver's seat. I turned the engine back on and pulled into the lot of the hotel. There was a security guard at the entrance who stopped me.

"Are you staying at this hotel, ma'am?" The man asked me with a deep voice. He looked into my eyes, narrowing his own.

I raised my eyebrow. "Why does it matter?"

"Well if you aren't, then you might just be one of them," He pointed with his thumb back at the fans. "You'll have to go home."

"Ahh," I nodded. "Well, I'm hoping maybe you can help me, then. I've got George here." I tapped George's shoulder, and he peeked up at the guard, waving.

The guard's eyes widened and he crossed his arms. "Well then, we can take 'im in from here, ma'am. Thank you for your help."

"What?"

"I'll get some other guys out here to help escort him," the man said, and then turned.

"No! No!" George said loudly, jumping up.

The guard turned back around. "What?!"

"It'll just get their attention!"

"Well we need to bring you in somehow!" He sighed, shaking his head.

"Just keep them all distracted."

"Well this young lady isn't going to be bringin' you in! She isn't staying here!"

George growled a little. "She's with me. She didn't kidnap me or anythin'." He sighed. "I drove here initially, but she took over when we saw the fans..."

The guard sighed and waved his hand. "Fine. Whatever. Go around back. I'll call for a guard to open a door back there."

I nodded and began driving, pulling up to an empty space behind the hotel. I looked at George, who was sitting up in his seat. He looked at me, and laughed. I smiled at him. The door was still shut, so we sat there in the car, waiting. "So... Why are you glad that I moved here?" The thought had stuck in my head the entire time, wanting an answer.

"Hmm? Oh-right. Sorry," George chuckled, and then rested the side of his head against his seat to look at me. A faint smile appeared on his lips. "Because if ya never moved here, then we never would have met today."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the guard opened the door, and motioned for us to come. We both quickly hopped out of the car, and headed inside to the hotel. We were in the boiler room, which was really creepy and hot and dark. The guard then led us to a cement staircase, that was clearly never used. We then hurried up a few flights of stairs up to George's floor, and ran down the hall to his suite.

George opened the door quickly, panting. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. There was a chorus of hellos from everyone as they resumed what they were doing. I slowly slipped in behind George, closing the door behind me. It made a loud noise when it latched shut, getting a man's attention.

"'ey, Georgie, who ya got there?" He asked, smirking.

"Oh," George smiled, putting a hand on the small of my back. "This is Beverly."

I waved lightly, and the man grinned, catching my hand in his before it could return to my side. He kissed it lightly, and looked up, still holding my hand close to his lips. "The name's John. John Lennon." He winked and let my hand go. "But of course you already knew that, right luv?"

I shook my head, remaining quiet.

John pulled away completely, raising an eyebrow. "Why are ya shakin' yer head?"

"Because I didn't know that. I've just met ya." I shrugged. "And before you even ask, I had absolutely no knowledge of the Beatles up until about 20 minutes ago, thanks to George."

"Oh," He said, surprised. "Well okay then... You can have a seat, luv." He said pointing to the couches. I nodded and smiled, walking with George to a couch, sitting down next to him. John then came over and sat next to me, smoking a cigarette. He was uncomfortably close, but I didn't scoot any closer to George, not wanting to give him the same discomfort.

Across from me sat another man, reading the paper. His nose was a bit bulky, but it didn't seem to matter much compared to his focused, blue eyes. He seemed smaller compared to John and George, but still rather similar-thanks to the hair. He looked up from the paper and grinned at me. "I'm Ringo," He greeted, before returning to his article in the paper. He continued grinning as he read. It was so incredibly awkward, but I couldn't help grinning as well.

And another man walked in from a room, adjusting his tie. "Brian, what time is the show?" He called, looking down at the tie to make sure it was even.

The man, who I assumed was Brian, came out of the bathroom. He was a bit taller and older than the other boys. "In about a two hours-oh, why hello there, miss." He smiled awkwardly to me.

George went to speak, but was interrupted by John. "Brian, this is Beverly. George brought 'er home."

"You guys and yer birds," Brian muttered, "Hello, Beverly. I'm Brian, their manager."

"Beverly doesn't know about us," John continued on, jumping up like an excited child. "Pretty shocking that George managed to find a bird who doesn't like him for his fame-that is, if she likes him. For all we know, he could have grabbed 'er and brought 'er here to make it seem like he got a girl." John sat back laughing.

"Oh shut up, John!" George sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Oh he didn't kidnap me!" I laughed nervously. "I like him," I nodded.

"'atta boy, George," the other boy said with a laugh. He then looked at me. "I'm Paul," he smiled. Unlike John, Paul didn't need to even do something sweet to lay on the charm. It was all in his smile. I returned a light smile and wiggled my fingers as a hello.

"Well, boys, we should be heading out," Brian said. George, John, and Ringo all stood, so I did as well. "Is Beverly coming?" Brian asked.

"Yeah," George nodded. "I dunno if we want to put her in the crowd or have 'er back stage, or..."

"We'll see," Brian said. There was a knock at the door, so Brian hurried over to it and let in some guards. He nodded to them and looked back at us. "Alright, let's go." We all left the suite, and were escorted out of the building to a limo, where we headed to the theatre.


End file.
